


you are my dad (boogie woogie woogie)

by ElizaLane



Series: Vaguely Connected MCYT Fics [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Blood, Creeper Hybrid Sam | Awesamdude, Fluff, Gen, It’s a little gorey at one point, Parent Sam | Awesamdude, Ram Hybrid Toby Smith | Tubbo, Sam | Awesamdude is Alexis | Quackity's Parent, Sheep Hybrid Cara | CaptainPuffy, Winged Alexis | Quackity, Winged TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Wingfic, its all platonic, just when Tommy’s wings come in, preening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:34:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29386377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizaLane/pseuds/ElizaLane
Summary: Tommy’s wings come in and his family is there for him.TW// It gets kinda gorey when his wing come in.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Sam | Awesamdude, Alexis | Quackity & TommyInnit, Cara | CaptainPuffy & Sam | Awesamdude & Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Cara | CaptainPuffy & TommyInnit, Sam | Awesamdude & Toby Smith | Tubbo & Tommyinnit, Sam | Awesamdude & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Series: Vaguely Connected MCYT Fics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2158698
Comments: 17
Kudos: 1022





	you are my dad (boogie woogie woogie)

“You good, kiddo?” Sam asked, watching Tommy try to scratch his back. Tommy had mentioned his back being exceptionally sore lately, but Sam had assumed that it was just the terrible mattresses they had. 

“Yeah, it’s just itchy,” Tommy replied. “It’s on my shoulder blades and I can’t reach it.”

“Do you want some help? I can get Tubbo or Puffy if you’d rather they help,” Sam offered. 

“I don’t mind if you do it,” Tommy said, turning so that Sam could reach his back. 

Sam reached over and rubbed his knuckles over Tommy’s shoulder blades before stopping abruptly. 

“Oh, don’t stop,” Tommy whined. 

“Tommy, I need to see your back.” Sam’s voice was pitched oddly. 

Tommy hesitated, then pulled his arms out of the sleeves and tugged his shirt over his head. 

“I’m gonna touch your back, okay? I’m just trying to feel for something,” Sam said. 

“Okay,” Tommy said. Sam ran his hands over Tommy’s back, from his shoulders down to the middle of his spine. “What’re you looking for, Sammie boy?” 

“I think that you might be a hybrid,” Sam said cautiously. “Quackity went through something similar when his wings came in.” 

Tommy turned around and stared at Sam. “Is it-- does it hurt?” he asked softly. 

“Like hell,” Sam replied sympathetically. “They have to break through your skin. The radaile -- the pointy part -- has to puncture your back, up near your shoulders, and then the wing tears a line down your back that we might have to stitch up if a regen pot doesn’t fix it. Your wings are going to grow for a few months after that until they reach their full length. After that, you should be able to fly.” 

“I could fly,” Tommy repeated, his eyes gleaming. “I’m gonna tell Tubbo!” 

Sam watched as Tommy leapt up and sprinted over to his and Tubbo’s room. Sam smiled fondly. 

“Those boys,” he sighed, as Tubbo screeched. 

“What’s going on with them?” Puffy asked, leaning out of her room. 

“I think Tommy’s growing wings,” Sam said. “He just went to tell Tubbo.” 

“Wings aren’t fatal, are they?” Puffy asked. 

“Not usually, but we’ll need some sutures and regen potions ready,” Sam answered. “I did a ton of research when Quackity’s came in. It’ll be painful, though. He’ll want us around for comfort. His instincts will be on overdrive for a few days before and after, so we need to get as many blankets for him to nest with as possible.” 

“He’s going to nest?” Puffy asked, plonking herself down in Tommy’s vacated spot. 

“Yeah. It’s not bad, but we should be around as much as possible. Quackity was really clingy when his came in and I feel like Tommy will be too.” 

“D’you think he'll be willing to come over and help Tommy with flying and wing care and stuff?”

“Probably. I know how to help Tommy preen his wings, and I can show you and Tubbo how to do it too,” Sam said. “I had to show Karl and Sapnap how to get the spots that Quackity can’t reach.” 

“I never really got how you and him are related,” Puffy said. “You know how I adopted Foolish.” 

“I kinda took him in the way we took in Tubbo and Tommy. It was a few years back, and he was alone.” 

“So you saw him and decided that he needed a dad?” 

“Yeah,” Sam laughed. “I felt bad for him. He was only sixteen and I was twenty, and he needed someone.” 

It was about a week later when Tubbo shook Sam awake, looking pale and frightened. “Tommy’s crying and he asked for you,” Tubbo whispered. 

Sam tore his blankets back and stumbled into Tommy and Tubbo’s room. Tommy was, in fact, crying, and laying on his side. 

“Sam -- Dad, I think my wings are --” Tommy cut himself off with a pained gasp. 

“Okay, okay,” Sam said,hurrying over to the kid’s bedside. “Tubbo, I need you to go get Puffy. Tell her that Tommy’s wings are coming in and to get the supplies. Tommy, do you want to move to another spot or stay here?” 

“Stay,” Tommy gasped. “Dad, it hurts so much, please.” 

“It’ll be okay, buddy, it’s going to be okay,” Sam soothed, running his hand through Tommy’s hair. His heart melted. “We need to get your shirt off, okay? Can you help me with that?”

Tommy hummed positively, his tears slowing. They shimmied Tommy’s shirt off, and Sam lit a lantern overhead. 

Tommy’s back was red, not bloody yet, but Sam knew that it was only a matter of time. There was a distinct lump near his shoulders, and when Sam gently touched it, Tommy let out a little sob. 

“It’s okay,” Sam said again. “I think that they’ll come out soon, but we can’t give you any potions until they get through.” 

“Why not?” Tubbo asked, having returned with Puffy. 

“It’ll repair the damage that has to happen and make the process longer,” Sam said, not looking away from his kid. “Tubbo, can you get a few water bottles?” 

“Yeah,” Tubbo replied, slipping out again. 

“Can we give him any weakness pots to help?” Puffy asked, crouching near Tommy’s head. 

Sam shook his head. “He’ll need all the strength he can get. That could make things worse.” 

“Dad,” Tommy whined, reaching for Sam’s hand. “Dad, please, make it stop.” 

Sam felt his heart break. “Oh, buddy, I’m so sorry,” he murmured. “I can only be here for you right now, but when your wings come out, then I’ll make it all stop hurting, okay?” 

“He called you ‘dad’ again,” Puffy whispered.   
“Yeah,” Sam said, holding Tommy’s hand as gently as possible. 

Tubbo hurried in, water bottles and a few rags in hand. He wet one of the rags and put it on Tommy’s forehead. Tommy sighed and relaxed slightly. 

“Thanks, Tubs,” he said softly. 

Tubbo smiled and grabbed Tommy’s other hand. Tommy let out another sob, tensing again, and the tip of his left wing broke through his back. 

“It hurts,” he cried. 

“I know, buddy,” Sam soothed. Tommy’s back ripped open a foot more, and his whole wing broke out. Tubbo gagged and looked away sharply. He didn’t let go of Tommy’s hand. 

“Just one more,” Puffy cooed, running her hand through Tommy’s hair the way she did when he had a nightmare. “One more, and then you never have to do this again.” 

“Okay,” Tommy gasped. “One more.” He screwed up his face. 

“Can you relax, Toms?” Sam asked gently. “That’ll make it a little easier.” 

Tommy took a shuddering breath and slumped further into his garbage mattress. The second wing tip broke through the skin on his back, and he let out a heartbreaking cry. The wing pushed out and tore the skin on his back further. 

“It’s okay now,” Sam praised. “You did so well, Tommy, you did it perfectly. Can you let Tubbo hold this hand? I’m going to clean off your back.” 

Tommy nodded, and Sam guided Tubbo and Tommy’s other hands together. He took one of the rags that Tubbo had brought and soaked it. He dabbed Tommy’s back at the base of his wings as Puffy gave him the regen potion. 

Tommy’s back began stitching itself together, up to the base of his wings.Tommy passed out, clearly exhausted. 

Sam got another rag wet and wiped up the rest of blood on Tommy’s wings. They were featherless and bony-looking. They were only three feet each, but Sam could tell that they would get much bigger in the coming weeks. 

“Will he be okay?” Tubbo asked in a whisper. 

“Yeah, he will be. This was a lot cleaner than when Quackity’s wings came in. Tommy’s going to be fine,” Sam said, relaxing. 

“Now we just need to make him new shirts,” Puffy joked shakily. “That was awful to watch.” 

Tubbo nodded and tucked himself into Puffy’s side. “It looked like it hurt so much more than when my horns broke through.” 

Puffy wrapped an arm around Tubbo’s shoulders. “I certainly sounded like it.” 

Sam rolled Tommy onto his stomach and let Tommy’s head turn to the side. 

“Tommy’ll be fine,” he repeated. “Are you ready to go back to sleep?” 

“Yeah,” Puffy said. “Tubbo, do you think that you can get in your bed?” 

Tubbo hesitated. “Can I sleep with Tommy?” 

“We can push your bed next to his,” Sam offered. Tubbo nodded. 

Puffy slid out and came back with a pile of blankets and pillows. “I’m camping out in here.” 

“Okay,” Sam said. Puffy passed him his own blanket and he pulled one across his shoulders and settled into a sitting position with his pillow behind his head. He closed his eyes as Tubbo curled into Tommy’s sleeping form. 

The next morning, Sam woke to Tommy poking his shoulder. 

“Sam?” he whispered. “Are you awake?” 

“I am now,” Sam yawned. “What’s up?” 

“I don’t know,” Tommy said. “I just -- can I have a hug?” 

Sam opened his arms in reply, and Tommy settled into them, tucking his head under Sam’s head. 

“I think I called you ‘dad’ last night,” he said quietly. 

“You did,” Sam affirmed. 

“Is that okay?”

“It absolutely is,” Sam replied softly. “It made me very happy.”

“So I can do it more?”

“Of course.” 

Tommy was quiet for a moment. “I need to _do_ something, but I don’t know what,” he admitted. 

“Do you need to make a nest?” Sam asked. 

“Maybe? I don’t know how, though.” 

“Just follow your instincts,” Sam said. “That’s what Quackity did.” 

Tommy wormed his way out of Sam’s arms and nudged Tubbo until he sleepily got off of their beds. He pulled all of the blankets off their beds and plonked them onto Tubbo, who’d settled next to Puffy. Tommy hesitated, then took their biggest blanket and spread it out flat across 

their beds. He laid some of the lighter blankets around the edge of the beds in a sudo-circular formation and put their pillows at the heads of the bed. He laid a heavier blanket across the top and settled into the middle. Tommy frowned and got up again. He pulled Tubbo up into the nest and gave him the last blanket, then turned to Sam. 

They stared at each other for a long moment, then Tommy beckoned Sam to the nest as well. 

“I want Puffy up here too,” he said. 

Sam nudged Puffy and guided her, yawning, into Tommy’s nest where Tommy directed him to. Tommy showed Sam where to lay, and then tucked himself into Sam’s side again, finally relaxing. 

“Thanks, Dad,” he said. 

“Any time, son,” Sam replied, laying his own blanket over his son ( _his son!_ ).

“Dad!” Quackity called. “Sam, padre, where are you?”

Sam ducked out of Tommy and Tubbo’s room. “Hey, Q. What’s up?” 

Quackity strutted over to Sam and tried to throw arm around his shoulders. He failed, being comically shorter than his dad. “I haven’t heard from you in a while and wanted to see what was going on.”

“Ah, damn. Tommy’s wings came in a couple days ago and he’s been clingier than usual.”

“Tommy’s got wings?” Quackity asked, surprised. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah. They came in more smoothly than yours did. He’s just been cuddly,” Sam smiled. 

“Aww, is he being a little baby bird? Does he need someone to pick on him?” Quackity cooed fake-mockingly. 

“He’s still recovering, so not yet, but he could use a nice older brother when he’s okay again,” Sam laughed. “Do you want to teach him how to fly?” 

“Can I?” Quackity gasped excitedly. “Oh, that’s gonna be so much fun.” 

“Dad?” Tommy yawned, standing in his doorway. 

“Dad?” Quackity repeated, amused. 

“Big Q!” Tommy exclaimed, flinging himself across the camp. He threw his arms around Quackity, who awkwardly returned the hug. Tommy pulled back, bouncing on his heels. “What’re you doing here?”

“Just checking in,” Quackity grinned. “Look at those wings! And your little baby feathers! Aw, you’re like a little fledgling baby.”

“Shut up, bitch,” Tommy laughed, not sounding offended at all. “I’ll stab you.”

“If you stab me, then I can’t teach you how to fly,” Quackity countered. 

“Boys, please,” Sam laughed. “No stabbing.” 

“Dad,” they both whined playfully. 

“I have to pick on him, he’s the baby of the flock!” Quackity said, laughing. 

“I’m not a baby!” Tommy squawked in protest. 

“You’re a little fledgling, baby bird. I have much to teach you.”

Sam laughed at his sons. 

Three weeks after Tommy’s wings came in, his feathers had finally grown enough for him to need preening. 

“Dad, my wings feel weird,” Tommy said, slumping next to Sam. 

“Weird as in they hurt?” Sam asked. 

“Just, like, uncomfortable. Like my feathers are wrong.”

Sam ran a hand over Tommy’s right wing. “They probably just need preening,” he said. 

“Will you do that?” Tommy asked, sounding embarrassed. His ears flushed red. 

“Sure,” Sam replied, moving fully behind his son. 

He started gently straightening the red feathers. Tommy seemed to ooze with happiness, the same way Quackity did when his wings were preened. 

Tubbo moved over quietly, watching Sam's hands intensely. 

“What are you doing?” Tubbo demanded. “How do I do that?” 

“I’m preening his wings. It’s just straightening the feathers and making sure that all of the bad ones are out,” Sam explained. “There aren’t any bad ones yet, but Tommy should start molting the baby feathers soon.” 

“Like when your baby teeth fall out?” Tubbo asked. 

Sam let out a startled laugh. “Yeah, I suppose you could say that. But it doesn’t hurt, it’s just a little uncomfortable.” 

Tubbo nodded intensely, still watching Sam’s hands. “Can I do that?” he asked. 

“Can he, Tommy?” Sam asked. Tommy nodded. “Okay, so you’re going to want to start at the top and make sure that all of the feathers are aligned. They should lay straight.”

Tubbo nodded and gently followed Sam’s instructions.

“When a feather needs to come out, it should only take a light tug. Any more will hurt, and you definitely don’t want to pull out any blood feathers.” 

Tubbo nodded again. Tommy sighed in contentment, and Tubbo visibly brightened. 

“Will Tommy ever chirp?” Tubbo asked suddenly.

“Maybe,” Sam shrugged, removing his hands from Tommy’s finished wing. 

“Sometimes I bleat,” Tubbo admitted, flushing. 

“So does Puffy,” Sam said. 

“She does when she laughs sometimes,” Tommy said. “It’s really funny. I hope that I can chirp. That would be pretty cool.”

“I would,” Tubbo agreed. “I think I’m done now.”

“You are,” Tommy said. “Thanks.” He turned and gave Tubbo a hug, wrapping him in Tommy’s arms and wings. 

Sam smiled fondly at his kids. Life was good. 

**Author's Note:**

> Tubbo: I have to make Tommy happy. How do I do the thing with his wings that makes him happy.   
> Sam, internally: aww big brother Tubbo


End file.
